A rundown shop of old joys, now just a wreck, with a little touch of mystery.
Concluders haunt the frozen lands of their home in search of knowledge.
The tears of a blinded god created it.
A list of harmless (if sometimes annoying) potions.
A five room dungeon with the appropriate clashes of steel, smooth talking, and betrayal.
Your average posse of adventurous types is hired by a wizard to stop the attacks on a small village.
A blade that lives, and has lived for millennia.
"Thentr was made from moonlight and flame; he has killed one of the mighty rulers of the skies; he has yet to return home".
-Old Cro, the story teller
The story I am about to tell you is one of magic and of monsters, of bravery and courage, of good and of evil, but most importantly of Flame and he who wished to quench it - Old Cro, the story teller.
The numorous denizens of Thanethia all in one place.
To see one of the wolfkin running is an inspiring sight, they move as if they had wings instead of legs, as if they were not tied to the ground, but could soar among the clouds
What would you do if you were offered the chance to be a monster?
The things you could do just by pointing…
The party comes across a nice hermit in the woods. He gives them food and lodging for the night. They awaken to his terrified screams. "East! It's east! Stop it! It'll kill us all!" The poor horror-stricken hermit dies thrashing in agony, one boney arm outstretched, his finger pointing to the east.